Lege Perfectie
by Silas Goodwill
Summary: A deranged orphan, a paranoid warlord, and a flippant hero: To survive and escape Subspace is their goal. But, as they struggle with conflict both without and within, it becomes clear that those who observe the universe for eons are not easily defeated
1. Longevity's Curse

**A/N Various items I do not own, in no particular order: Superman, Batman, Spiderman, my house, my clothes, my computer, Mario, The Mushroom kingdom, Ganondorf, Tabuu, Sonic, Bowser, The Master Chief, The Halo Rings, Eragon, Solid Snake, an orbital laser, toast, my soul, sunlight, Link, Zelda, Luigi, Shadow, Omega, Cackletta, Ridley, and Captain Falcon.**

**However I do own: The Moon, which I have a royalty of .04% on for every reference. The Game, which you just lost and owe me ten dollars for entering into. and a set of dominos.**

* * *

_I was perfect once._

_My footsteps heralded the approach of divinity, my hands brought healing and mercy, my eyes pierced infamy, my voice carried wisdom to the foolish._

_I was the flagbearer of righteousness; no cause that I joined could fail. _

_I was the fashioner of divine tools: master of a thousand crafts. _

_I was the knight of shining armor; defining poem, ballad, and haiku. _

_I was the hero who descended into the darkness; led light where there was none._

_I was the champion of endless battles; the sword that bore my hand would not shatter._

_I was the consort of kings, emperors, and legends._

_I was the one who made paths straight, and comforted the distraught in their woe._

_To me did the champions rally: the orphaned, the abused, the loveless, and the morally lost._

_Upon me was the pivot of the ages; the wheels of fate were chained to my will._

_But alas, I was, and they were not._

* * *

Subspace was alive.

Not sentient, but alive. Like an animal, feeling but not comprehending what was around it.

The darkness twitted and scrabbled, blue and purple cavorting together with the atmosphere of a guilty act amongst the shadows. Lightning cartwheeled as a third party. Freed from the bounds of gravity, it clung together in bars of white iron, spiraling down vortexes and exploding into sheets of spiderweb.

Together they danced, convicts that would never be pursued, cavorting wildly in a bedlam that defied rational thinking and was unshackled from the bonds of structure.

Mostly.

The Animal knew but one challenger, a single speck upon its speckless garment; a thorn that refused to be removed.

lighting did not touch its worn buildings, purple and blue did not reflected off of its motionless structures, darkness could not stifle its light. In a maelstrom of madness, it was an oasis of sanity. A place where the rules of the universe vacationed and took refuge from the darkness.

A castle were another chaos reigned, were other darkness lingered.

This darkness did not speak of its status. It did not whisper of its brilliance or worth. It did not have need for titles or recognition. The noise from the outside disappeared; the chaos of the storm violently hushed; snapped it into order by the darkness' voiceless power.

It was totally silent, for it was thinking.

And waiting.


	2. Cracked

Orphans.

Seven letters that carry an image of pain and suffering that most civilized people can only faintly conceive. They are icons of helplessness that beg for protection and sympathy from a dark and cruel world. Completely incapable of providing for themselves, they depend upon the kindness of others to survive.

Samus Aran, (The Destroyer of Pirates! Liberator of Universes! Defender of Galactic Space!) once sobbed her eyes out over the body of her dead mother. She once begged for kindness from a cruel world, and received it.

A surrogate family, the Chozo, saw that she was raised well. Saw that she became more than just a helpless child. But that kindness was what made their death so painful. Not only did the beast that struck down her mother reappear, but it consumed her adopted family. Purging the planet that had been her home and making her an orphan not once, but twice.

How does one survive the death of a family? How does one survive the pain that washes through the body, flooding the heart and soul with a poison that simply will not disappear? How can you live, breathe, exist, knowing that those that brought you into the world are gone?

She found survival in combat.

The Destroyer of Pirates, Liberator of Universes, and Defender of Galactic Space, swore on the ashes of her adopted planet that she would not die until every last pirate had begged for mercy at her feet.

* * *

The pirate fell to its knees, obsidian armor twisting away in coiled shards, as plasma bolts melted across its frame. The charged atoms began to gnaw at its skin and the Pirate screamed as flesh was ignited. With a slight sizzle and the smell of burning smoke, it faded to ash.

Samus Aran stepped through the dusty grey streak that had just been a sentient being with a distracted air, her feet scattering the ashes with a tangible satisfaction.

The Ship had been badly damaged when she found it, doubtlessly from the space station that she'd found not far away, resulting in both the sensory array and shield systems being down. Distress calls were not unusual in space, but when a space station mentioned they'd been attacked by pirates, she couldn't resist the chance to purge some vermin.

The octagonal corridors were squatted down, the roof hovering inches from her head. A design that served as a physical reminder that this ship had been built by Aliens. Red lines of light skittered through the walls like insects, bouncing off of unseen angles and reflecting along the hall. Faint growls became audible in the distance, and Samus crouched down, steadying her blaster.

* * *

"_You there! Where are you going" _The target of this interrogation mentally cursed at being found. He'd hoped to get to the engine room before anyone noticed his presence. The technician turned around to face the steely gaze of a veteran battle commander. _"I was ordered to see wh-" _

_"What was the bridge's status before the array went down?"_ The Senior Commander's voice slithered through several layers of armor, the dark shapes hiding the reptilian skin underneath.

"_They had fortified the command center and were recalling all non-vital personnel to aid in repressing the Subject. When I left, the Beast was beating upon the doors." _The second speaker was devoid of any distinguishing futures, red eyes darting constantly, never holding to a single spot.

"_And so you thought it best to slip out unnoticed? You know what the Captain's policy is with cowards." _The battle commander delivered the last word with the malice of a weapon.

"_I did what I deemed necessary for the safety of the hive. The Beast is not of flesh, if it were to discover our flight logs, then our operations in the area would be compromised." _

Here the second paused, eyes focusing on the spiked helmet, _"You know what the Council's policy is with failure."_

"..."

"_How many groups acknowledged your order to meet at the Bridge?"_

"_Four. At least that is how many I counted before finishing the data capture."_

"_Where were they coming from?"_

"_Engineering had a group of fourteen, The Mess-hall had twenty seven, and both Barracks reported ten." _

"_Quickly, let us head to engineering, it is closer. Once there we ca-"_

The lights snapped on with a loud hum, the sensors and shield systems coming back online.

The Commander's eyes gyrated to the end of the hall, where a figure in bulbous armor had stepped out into view. _"HUNTER!" _Instantly, he threw up his blaster and charged, roaring in a clicking voice.

Like a pouncing cat, the figure crossed the distance and fired a missile that turned the Pirate into a cloud of fire and ash.

The engineer had already dashed down the hallway.

Rushing to a communication panel, he slammed a finger down on the intercom, a loud buzz filling the entire ship._ "The Hunter is abo-"_

A second missile blew him away from the consol, slamming him against the wall. The Hunter was at the hallway entrance, striding coolly down it with the tranquil air of absolute power.

The Pirate scrambled for his pistol, managing to release a pair of shots before it was shorn off with his hand in a ball of plasma. Hissing in agony, he stumbled to his feet, missing a pair of shots that splashed around his legs, and lurched back to the consol.

"_It's on A-dec-"_

He managed to dodge the next missile, leaping aside as the intercom was turned into a blackened husk, the missile denting the wall and sending a shock wave that rattled the hall.

The Pirate limped down a second door.

He threw himself inside, gasping desperately as it sealed shut behind him. He punched in a set of symbols, even as the door began to open. For a fraction of a second, the Pirate saw directly into the eyes of Samus Aran, before the blast shield slammed shut between them.

* * *

"_Where is The Hunter?"_

"An engineer reported seeing her on A-Deck. We've sealed it off and begun rotating for signs!"

_"…What is the status on the Beast?"_

"_Combat Teams have successfully pushed it back. They have confined it to the elevator shaft."_

"_Unseal the elevators on A-Deck. Let the Demons determine their own fate."_

* * *

Five space pirates jumped her at a corner, knocking her legs out and sending her into a tight roll that automatically activated her Morph-Ball. Releasing a trio of energy bombs, Samus boosted away before the blast.

Two of the pirates were instantly killed, a third's armor was destroyed, and the last two charged with claws bared. She had a fraction of a second to switch back into standard form before they tore deep gashes into her armor, cutting so deep that Samus could feel the talons pass inches from her skin. With a sharp cry, she swung up her cannon, snapping the arms that had struck her.

A twist of her hand caused the Beam Cannon to hum ominously. The Pirates began to open fire with their rifles, red bolts streaking past Samus's vision like hissing bees. In a single practiced motion, she snapped the cannon up and ejected a massive ball of plasma that slammed into the Pirates with all the force that a sphere of charged atoms can bear against a stable force.

They disappeared in a wave of energy.

Gasping, she pulled her helmet off and felt where they had struck her armor. Frantically, she rubbed her hands along the gashes, waiting as her regeneration tanks stitched it together along familiar lines. Clasping her arms around it like a mother embracing a child, she began to slow her breathing.

Emotions that were locked away started bubbling to the surface. Fragments of issues that she'd locked away were sliding out of the darkness and fouling the air with a painful stench. She shut her eyes as images of her dead mother began to assault her, transposed over scenes from her life.

The specter changed, its body twisting into the form of her father, who towered over her in emotionless condescension. "Come little girl, why have you failed to do something that equals my sacrifice? I saved you from the Monster." Her Father vanished, and was replaced by a faceless solder that cradled a broken weapon."Why didn't you save me?"

The Solider changed to a ship, the ship to a dog, the dog to a planet.

A loud clank snapped her back to the present. One of the elevators had ground open, its gears shrieking with rust and wear, and a whine filled the air.  
Samus had no sooner become aware of it, when a voice became audible. "_**The shadows depart, and hallways do stretch, winding round a most beautiful wretch."**_

The open elevator groaned, as a massive from pulled itself out from the tight quarters. Samus found herself engulfed in shadow, as the creature rose up to its full height. Blazing violet eyes smoldered from behind the twisted mockery of a knight's helmet, while gorilla arms came to an end in purple hands that were adored with heavy gauntlets.

The voice spoke again, "_**Alas fair maiden, though thy skin is pale, thy hands are crimson on a blushing scale".  
**_With a groan from the doors, it moved further away from the elevator, massive purple hands curling into loose fists.  
"_**Thy hands clutch weapons that were forged by saints. Do thou mark them sinners with thy unwary hate"?**_

The whine that had accompanied the robot's exit from the elevator had grown louder, Samus felt her temples throb and had to fight to discern any audible noise. It might be saying something, but on its current frequency, she had no idea what was being said.  
Taking several steps backwards, she rotated a missile into the chamber of her blaster. The robot seemingly unconcerned by the click that resounded through the hall.

"_**Beware lest thou strike down what you mean to scale. Though orphans are often lost, does not mean they fail."**_

Samus raised her blaster, eyes focusing on the red part of the Robot's body, anything that was making her nose bleed with noise, had to be hostile. "_**And now thy body doth burn with rage. Beware, dear Samus, lest though strike a fiercer sage." **_She pulled the trigger.

The Robot shot a hand forward and grabbed the missile in mid-shot, spinning it around and releasing it directly into Samus's chest.

Then it charged.

Samus was knocked clear across the hall from the impact, her armor blown wide open. The robot followed up with a fist that easily broke through the damaged layers, snapping her head back and knocking her into the wall.  
She felt blood drip from her lips; the suit could not heal skin._**  
"Listen well, wrath filled wench. My name is Galleom, and I shall purge thy sten-."  
**_Samus pressed her blaster directly in front of the creature's neck, on the exposed machinery, and opened fire. Galleom stumbled backward, gripping his neck, giving Samus enough time to release another missile into his chest. Her left hand shot out in a tight fist, and from it, a blue line of light whipped out and snagged the side of his head.  
However he submitted to the tug and allowed the momentum to carry him forward, connecting another fist with her stomach.  
Ridley's face flashed through her mind with the pain, and her repair systems blinked red. She had a single tank left.

A charged shot caught the creature in the chest, striking the pulsing glow. The Robot let out a high-pitched shriek, one that caused Samus's temples to throb relentlessly.  
"_**That blow was struck in manner unkind, now to you shall I return it, multiplied by nine."**_

Samus swung her foot up, striking the creature a second time in the chest, knocking it backwards and causing him to roar in agony. Realizing that she was only making it angry, she sprinting back toward the hanger.

* * *

Equality was not conceivable by the Space Pirate race.

That was not a symbolic statement, centuries of brutal warfare, ritualistic fighting, and continual battles for survival, had left the Space Pirates with a subconscious need for both command and domination. They could not physically comprehend two beings existing with the same level of power.

Their social hierarchy had evolved to reflect this. In the Space Pirate military, there were over two hundred different ranks for lieutenant. Each established by the level of relation and trust that was placed in them by their superiors.

If two individuals were in question as to who was the greater, they only needed to compare their armor. Which contained precise symbols that swiftly told their battle history so specifically, that one could quickly learn: who was the Leader, who had made the most kills, who had made the most difficult kills, who had been in the most battles, and who had been in the most successful excursions. Every notch, groove, and sigil on a Pirate's armor told a story.

When Fiery Soul stepped onto the command deck, all of the orderlies instinctively snapped their attention to him. Scanning for his position within the ship, relation to the Captain, and skill in combat.

Fiery Soul, in contrast, instinctively knew which members on the bridge might be his superior. And also knew that when they were lying on the floor in pools of their own blood, he probably superseded them.

It was a simple formality, but he said it any way. _"Who is in charge?" _One of the technicians stepped forward, _"I am, Fiery Soul. However I relinquish my command to you."_

"…_You..?"_

"_The Captain was killed when the beast attacked. We managed to push it back, but at the cost of the best fighters on the bridge._"

"_What of the Second in Command?" _

"_All__ of the best fighters."_

Fiery Soul's eyes darted from side to side for a moment, an automatic sign that he was thinking.

"_What of the rest of the Ship? Am I the next in the chain?" _It was considered extremely stupid to take command of a ship that held someone who could kill you.

"_No…..except….no, you are the next in the chain."_

"…_Who were you going to suggest?"_

The Technicians began to shift uneasily, eyes darting quickly from side to side. _"With….with all respect due to the Captain….we can't tell you."_

The Technician had just broken the sacred rule within the Space Pirate hierarchy, never defy the Leader. By all counts, Fiery Soul had every right and necessity to kill him on the spot.

Letting out a slight sigh, calming his initial outrage, he spoke softly. _"I am __**The**__ captain of this ship. Who is it?"_

The Technician shuddered slightly, past orders conflicting with present ones, and fought an internal war as he attempted to resolve them.

"…_in the cargo bay. Section R57. We have a stasis unit that is not on the cargo manifests. The former Captain ordered us to keep it secret."_

"_Who do we have down there?"_

The Technician spoke with visible fear, eyes widening and forked tongue flicking around his mouth as he forced himself to say the name. "_T…The Inflictor of Loss."_

Fiery Soul felt the fear that had possessed the technician spread to him like a potent virus. Any chance he'd held at avoiding either responsibility or blame had disappeared with the mention of that name.

"_What is our objective?" _He spoke with a barely audible tremble.

"_We found the Inflictor's remains while searching the debris of an abandoned station. He was in abnormally good condition and we possessed the few necessities to fix him. When the Council learned of our discovery, they ordered that he be stowed as invisible cargo, to insure that he would not be discovered in the event of capture."_

"_How long has he been asleep?"_

_"He may have gained consciousness for a few hours when we repaired him. Aside from that, he's been asleep since he was rendered dormant."_

Fiery Soul felt an idea begin to sprout at the back of his mind. "_Have you been monitoring the Hunter and the Beast's combat?"_

"_Yes, the Hunter appears to be fleeing for the hangar with the Beast in pursuit."_

"…_Awaken the Inflictor and inform him of the situation." _The Pirate nodded and motioned for several individuals to follow him to the elevators.

Fiery Soul felt a slight hum go through his blood. Sidestepping responsibility always felt good.


	3. Special Operations

The handless technician stumbled into the Engine room. Waving his arms desperately, he cried out, "The Hunter is attacking!" and dove to the side as the room was abandoned by engineers dashing out in an attempt to claim glory.

As the doors closed, he sprang forward and pressed several buttons on the consol. A locking mechanism slid into place and sealed it off from the outside

A second pirate came out from behind the engineering, eyes wide in confusion.

"_Paxton! What are you doing? Only the head engineer is allowed to activate a lockdown."_

"Our operation has been compromised."

"…_no…"_

"The experiment that the Minster gave us has malfunctioned. It's attacking the ship, and has caused significant damage. I want you to make a request for a Subspace Bomb, then contact our agents across the ship and alert them of the situation."

Both of the pirates' bodies had been steadily changing as they talked, breaking down and shifting shape.

The First pirate, the one who'd raised the alarm about Samus, had shrunk to half his original size, and obtained purple skin. An expressionless face, owed to the fact that it lacked everything but eyes, stared out with glowing eyes, and a pair of brown boots were wrapped around his feet.

An emblem burned in the middle of his chest, a red circle dominated by a half-minus sign.

The Second had become a similar shape, however he had a set of three eyes that came together in a vertical pattern and his left arm was covered in machinery that blinked and warbled as various buttons and switches moved under his fingers.

"We have work to do, Xerxes."

* * *

Samus could hear the robot's massive footfalls behind her, grating on the walkway and grinding footprints into the metal floor. She wanted to be afraid, she wanted to feel pain, but a hard knot inside her refused to feel anything while there were battles to be fought.

She slid through the door into the hanger, leaping atop her Gunship even as the door's hinges were torn open a power panel, she gripped a set of energy lines and connected them to the cannon.

Galleom strode through the ruined entrance, standing straight as an ominous rack of missile launchers rotated out of his back.

"_**I might be talked into sparing thee, if you could be coerced into surrendering to me"**_

Samus set her jaw, turned, and unleashed Omega.  
From her cannon came a blue beam that was five times her size. It roared through the air with fury of a pouncing lion, and caught Galleom completely off guard.

Before he had time to doge, create a defense, or even realize what was happening, his metal was bathed in searing temperatures. Internal circuitry began to scream, and with a dying moan, he fell over.

By the time the beam stopped, Galleom's body was splashed against the hall as metal slag.

* * *

Within the engine room, Paxton had begun piling crates against the doors, insuring that anyone that managed to open them would discover a second barrier.

Xerxes stopped what he was doing, and spoke, _"Contact has been lost with the experiment."_

"What does that mean?"

"_Either our beloved robot has suddenly developed powers of invisibility, or he's been destroyed."_

"The Hunter. Warn our agents, she is not to be engaged."

"_Yes Commander, and I should warn you, The Ship Commander has just woken up The Inflictor."_

"…tell the ship to speed up The Bomb transfer."

* * *

The container hissed, steam sliding out and falling to the floor like exhausted ghosts. Heavy locking mechanisms pulled the lid away, on grinding arms that rumbled with power.

The Inflictor of Loss was a legend. He held a bounty higher than the combined value of the entire Space Pirate Council. His victim count was higher than most genocides. And several planets lacked sentient life because of his actions.

As coolant spilled across the floor, icy chill sucking up heat and coating it in a white sheen, the technicians pulled out flame devices and pushed the sedative liquid across the floor into special drains.

He'd survived several centuries of leadership change, and bloody revolutions. He had led suicide missions right into the Galactic Federation's most heavily guarded colonies. Bounty Hunter's had regularly pursued him, but he'd taken to mounting their carcasses as trophies.

The sleeping form slowly thawed, heat embracing limbs that'd forgotten its touch. Blood began to move, sluggishly growing in speed until the chemical messages began to race along the nerves. Massive lungs began to pump in and out, purging used oxygen from the body in large breaths that brought further warmth.

The Inflictor was the face of chaos. The Inflictor was the face of nightmares; The Inflictor was the face of many, many things.

Like a machine coming to life, the dragon began to move.

But above all, he was The Inflictor of Loss.

The reptilian head rose upon a powerful neck, while gigantic claws gripped the edges of the container, sending groans through the structure.

The first step was unsteady, shaking from the cold. The second brought him to his knees. The third brought him to a crouch. The fourth to his full height. The fifth uncurled his wings.

With his body fully awake, blood began to stream to the brain, flooding it with memories. Flashes blurred in his mind's eye, scenes of battle and warfare that rushing with the speed of recollection.

_The attack on the Galactic Federation: fighting with The Hunter down an energy shaft, fire erupting from his mouth in angry beams. _

_Space: cosmic winds pulling and tugging as desperation pushed him onward. _

_The Pirate Homeworld: fighting within a blue hall that beat like the inside of a heart, his skin melting as Samus tore apart his wings and sent him into the dark void of death._

_Again. _

Animalistic rage burned within his body. The last of the chill tore from his body as he let out a beam of fire, scarring the ceiling and raining molten metal around him. He roared in eternal defiance, screaming that The Hunter's victory had been in vain, he was still alive.

He turned to the technicians that had awoken him.

_"How long? _

The leader shuffled forward, eyes flicking around nervously, _"Roughly four months."_

Ridley swung his wings, working out the kinks in their folds and stretching his arms. Four months, not the longest period of time he'd been asleep.

"_Where am I?"_

"_Aboard the Silent Revolution. We found you roughly four weeks ago. Took you in and set a course for the new homeworld."_

"_Then we have arrived?"_

"_N-no, the Captain ordered you awoken once he learned of your stasis."_

"…_you only just recently revealed my status to the Captain."_ Ridley's tail began to slowly lash back and forth, scraping across the floor in a manner that brought violence to mind.

The pirate began to fidget and twitch slightly, a nervous reaction that was the brain fighting to prevent the body from dashing away.  
"_We were attacked by a strange Robot. It managed to kill several platoons and all of the commanding staff. The Captain only just gained control"._

Ridley raised his head and sniffed the air_. _"_I smell another motive, why else have you awoken me?"_

The technician took a small step back, just out of reach of Ridley's claws, before answering. _"The Hunter is here"._

Ridley dropped to all fours, shrieking in a harmony of roars and screams that froze the soul, and galloped towards the doors that led out of the hangar. One of the technicians had the foresight to open it for him, diving out of the way as Ridley tore past and scuttled through the small hallways. He activated his communicator and sent a signal to the bridge.  
"_Captain, the Inflictor of Loss has been awoken. He's headed toward the Hunter's position."_

"_How_ _c__an he find her without knowing where she is?"_

"_Trust us sir, he is quite….motivated."_

* * *

Samus lowered her weapon, heat rolling off of it in rippling waves.

The Arm Cannon had been overheated by the energy from the Gunship's core. The power, that had only just moments ago melted an overconfident robot into slag, had now locked down her firing mechanism to prevent an explosion.

If that were not enough, her health was dangerously low. With a single regeneration tank, there was minimal margin for error. So when a muffled roar slipped through the closed doors, and the walls began to shake, Samus hastily made her way into the pilot seat of her ship.

"**Alert: Large Bioform detected. Hypothetical markers mark unit as Alpha Class hostile. Initiating defensive protocol." **

The Ship's sides pulled back, revealing a pair of violent missile launchers that hummed ominously. "**Initiating repositioning process for suppression."**

The ship's engines whirred to life, fiery exhaust pulling it up and scarring the floor with pools of hot metal. As the door was moved into missile's kill zone, Samus' hand gripped the trigger on the launchers, her mind considering all options available to her even as she prepared to fire.

Ridley burst through the doors.

Samus felt fear kick her in the stomach. She pulled the trigger with a hatred that came up the back of her throat in a collection of acidic bile.

Ridley felt the first blasts impact upon his unprepared skin, summoning painful memories that intensified his rage. Pulling a wing over his face, he rolled to the side, out of the ship's line of fire.

He recognized the ship, recognized every cursed detail along its frame. He lunged forward, grabbing the side and heaving it with his massive arms. Quivering from the effort, he agonizingly began to twist it toward the hangar's exit bay.

The shield that held the atmosphere in was electronically generated, and needed to be deactivated from a panel. Ridley pushed the ship into the field, sending energy cascading across its frame and his body. It shook and sparked, white lighting slithering across its frame and biting his claws with energy.

He hissed in pain, and repositioned his hands, while shoving the ship further into the energy cascade. Increasing the level of power and pounding the ship with its force.

* * *

There was a flash of white, and a large metal sphere appeared in the Engine Room. Xerxes quickly opened a control panel and began to input command codes

A red glow began to shine through the collection of crates.

"Is that going to be a problem?"

"_No. With the assumption that we are trapped, they will take their time and savor the impending taste of blood."_

"Have our other agents responded?"

"_I imagine they're too busy pretending to be mindless pirates to respond to a suspicious message."_

On the bomb's timer, thirty seconds beeped twice, before starting to count down.

* * *

Samus's ship had been deactivated by the powerful energy wall. Within, she clutched her disabled cannon desperately as Ridley pulled back a panel on the top and plunged a dark claw into the interior.

Like a striking snake, she slammed the heated cannon onto his hand. There was sizzle, and a burn appeared on the Dragon's appendage. He roared and tossed the ship away.

Samus leaped free, the ship crumpling against the wall in a dejected heap. Without hesitation, Ridley swooped toward her.

Samus lifted her left arm, firing an electrical grapple line onto the ceiling behind him. Pulling on it, she soared toward him, and, twisting her body, she traced a white burn beneath Ridley's eye with her cannon. The dragon fell to the floor, screeching in pain and spitting fire in all directions.

Samus sprinted toward the door out of the hangar, pumping her arms and legs to increase her speed. Ridley anticipated her actions, tail snapping around; he released a bolt of fire that forced Samus up into a tight ball.

Ridley roared and sprang forward toward the door, legs pulling him like a tiger.

She spiraled out, twisting into the air and landed on Ridley's back. The dragon only had a moment to process his error before Samus slammed her superheated cannon into his spine.

The Pain showed around him.

His vision was blotted out by white as Samus leaped away from him. There was a brief beep as the door read his presence, and slid open in anticipation.

It is very important to state that what happened next was not the door's fault. It had never been one for evil deeds, and the only sin that it'd ever incurred was that it'd been built from stolen material. As a testament to its character, it had always tried to be a good door.

Ridley flew through it, and the noise of painful somersaulting could be heard from the other side.

* * *

Five.

Paxton sat with his back to the bomb, watching the welding torch's glow work its way down the door.

Four.

Xerxes tapped data upon his arm, communicating with the other agents about what was to happen.

Three.

They both glanced at countdown.

Two.

"This is going to hurt. Isn't it?

One.

"_Yes, Paxton."_

* * *

The door to the engine room bent and warped, shaking as though holding back the floods of Doomsday, before the walls finally buckled and were pulled back into a dark cyclone that burst outward.

* * *

"_We just lost contact with the Support Technicians!"_

"_What!"_

* * *

It accelerated; rushing down the hallways with a speed that only fleeing prey could fully appreciate.

* * *

"_Systems have begun to darken all across the ship. We're losing contact with our remaining combat groups and cameras have all gone dark."_

* * *

The Music screamed, pushing the darkness further and further from its source. It burst into the hanger, washing over everything in a black tide.

Samus sank into the darkness, its texture like a thick mud, and felt it begin to pull her down, toward a hidden depth. It slid over her head in a black cloud, and she felt herself panic as the suit began to warn of system ruptures.

Fear, despair, depression, mental damage from emotional and psychological loss, all these factors blended together into a potent concoction that her brain could simply no longer handle. Her eyes slid shut as the darkness sealed her away.

* * *

"_Sector ready for transportation to Subspace. Zonal dispersion engaged. Preparing ship for jump in: Three. Two. One."_

With a faint flash, the _Silent Revolution _abandoned the world of Metroid.


	4. Communication

Subspace is an ocean of blackness: the absolute darkness that clings to the underside of all realities. It has no counterpart, for it already encompasses all possibilities.

Above it, the Universe hums in an unstable maelstrom. Shifting, and colliding, whirling around in a cosmic dance that only an outside observer can truly appreciate.  
Power is generated from its internal collisions, lights flicker and dance in seclusion, occasionally illuminate the gloom with brilliant lightning, as unstable ions collide and mix with atomic movement.

There was a flicker, as though someone had momentarily opened a door, and the shadows leaped away from the _Silent Revolution _as it fell into the umbra of its' galaxy.

A light snapped on, and the _Silent Revolution_ was illuminated with the force of a flashlight at the bottom of an ocean.

Large Movement could be seen.

Not movement, Large Movement, the type of movement when you're scuba diving on the ocean floor and a whale the size of an aircraft carrier swims over you. The type of movement when you're a fish and a shark one hundred times your size finds you interesting. The type of movement when you become aware of just how important size is, and how very little of it you have.

It was huge, dwarfing the _Silent Revolution _by a hundredfold, vaguely resembled an hourglass, and remarkably unconcerned with petty concepts like aerodynamics, or physics.

Organic tentacles stretched from the top to the bottom, intertwined so tightly it was impossible to tell where one began, and another ended. A pair of octagonal bases, huge and menacing, sandwiched it together with mind crushing size.

As the Behemoth, for it was the only word that could accurately convey its size, lumbered through the darkness, it began to vibrate. The tentacles began to hum, disconnecting somewhere in the middle, and stretched toward the ship with the precision of a surgeon. The tendrils spun it around, stretching and expanding to grip the ship's surface evenly.

It sang.

The music was wide, long, sweeping, and held in its grasp the encompassment of all hope, and the depth of all fear. Faint lights trickled up its body, tracing the outline of its shape, and dissipated in the wide darkness.

It vanished into the distance, its music gradually muffled by the darkness around it, and the void returned to its previous shape. Absolute stillness hung in the air.

Waiting.

_**Transmission from: Behemoth Mobile Base to Emissary Command:**_

_**Source: Second in Command: Wireframe Xerxes. **_

_**Location: Distance: 345mi from base. Arc: 234mi. MFE: 45-978**_

_**Mission Status: Mission Failed: **__Failed to successfully acquire Subject: Metroid. _

_Were forced to abort mission due to malfunction of Galleom Robot.  
Came online; attacked Ship in the middle of a Station raid, allowing survivors to escape and radio for help. _

_Commander Paxton has ordered us to return to the base, and accepts full responsibility for the mission's failure. _

_Have acquired test subjects and examples of both Space Pirate and Galactic Federation technology. Are returning to base. _

_**Response from Emissary Command: **_

_Have received data transfer: You are to be rerouted._

_Mission control in the Mushroom Kingdom has reported a significant influx in hypnotic activity, and has requested support. You are to be dropped in, and assist as needed._

_And tell Commander Paxton that Tabuu will speak to him once he returns. _


	5. Business as usual

**A/N: Well, since I've managed to get five chapters printed with relative reasonable plot connection, I figured it was time to start saying something. This story is, in many ways, why I first joined FanF, and the vain, misguided attempts at writing it where my first stories. (Filled with writing errors, plot snares, and Overpowered OC's)**

**I like to think that my writing has improved, and that this story is legitimatly interesting, but my opinion is often flawed due to the involvement in the writing.**

**So, I humbly ask you, The Audience, to tell me your opinion. I'll happily take scathing curses over, blissful silence.**

**Thanks:**

**-Silas**

**

* * *

**

The sun rose over the horizon, its bright face gleaming with the unfathomable joy of banishing the night sky. A huge smile cleaved its face in two, massive laugh lines piling along the cheeks, dimmed only by the sheer white of its grin. The hills, trees, and flowers stood in rapt attention at its sudden glory.

Morning in the Mushroom Kingdom.

As thought taking a queue from the sun, the small village burst into life. Shops were opened by merrily whistling owners. Idle villagers wandered aimlessly, pockets filled with money that was mystically never empty. Bliss appeared to have set up permanent residence, while inviting her sisters, Euphoria and Contentment.

A toad named Blithely Indifferent, wandered out of his cottage; he stretched happily and wandered into the city with the posture without a worldly care.

The scene was sickening.

The sun's cheery smile was suddenly blotted out by a dark mass, and nature found its rapt awe drawn to the mass that now occupied the sky.

Its bottom was smooth and spherical, a contrast to the dark and primal shapes that occupied the rest of its body. Tall towers of stone and mortar were arrayed in gargoyles of grotesque fascination. Cannons bristled from every spare inch of the battlements and an armada of smaller ships swarmed it like hornets circling a hive.

The Koopa King was invading.

* * *

Bowser dismounted from a carrier, breathing in an aroma of baking cakes mixed with freshly cut grass and flowers. Lots of flowers.

A swarm of soldiers accompanied him, disembarking from the fleet of ships in formations that thundered with the march of boots. The grass, which until now had only contended with small, individual pairs of feet, found itself beaten by a brutal assault that stripped it of all being. The lawn was exterminated.

Bowser strode thought the horde, his massive form moving with the ease and grace of an iceberg. Massive equipment slid of the ships. Siege weapons, armored tanks: everything one might need to defend against an attack.

A jeep's loud engine announced its arrival, the four wheels knocking dirt into the sky with aggressive abandon. The driver yanked the wheel, apparently ignorant of the safety regulations, and fishtailed so that its back was facing Bowser.

A Shy Guy pulled himself up from the back seat, his most distinguishing feature being a large Officer's cap and a golden medal that gleamed proudly upon his chest.

"Sir! General! Guy! Reporting! Sir!" His tiny arm snapped off a salute. "Sir! I! Have!"- a muffled cough cut him off, a pair of red and blue Shy Guys staring at him from the driver and passenger seats. "-WE! Have! Scouted! The! Outer Perimeter! Sir! No! Sign! Of! Defenses! Sir!"

"Shocking, isn't it?"

"Sir! Yes! Sir!"

"General, we both know that 'Sir' is reserved for lower troops, like him," he gestured to an unfortunate Goomba, "there is no need to use it as the bookends for your speech, or make every word a statement."

"Sir! I! Am! Unable! To! Talk! To! A! Commanding! Officer! In! Such! A! Manner! Sir!"

Bowser rolled his eyes before continuing, "General, have troops secure the inside of the castle. The outside is usually only a prequel."

"Sir! Ye-" The driver slammed down the gas pedal and the Jeep roared away with the screech of burning tires, the General was thrown forward, his hat tumbling toward the ground only to be caught seconds before it fell out of reach. Grabbing it and slamming it back onto his head, he began to angrily converse with the driver, before pulling out a large white megaphone "-ES! SIR!"

* * *

If the outside was a heart attack and deluxe seizure, the inside was spontaneous combustion. The architect had managed to imbue bland corners with enough sweetness to power a magic elf bakery.

Across the ceiling, pictures danced playfully across happy fields, wearing face splitting smiles. A man in red bounced from scene to scene down the entrance hall, defeating creatures of obviously evil dispositions, their horned and clawed frames shying away from his presence as though burned by invisible fire. A girl in pink swooned at the dramatic battles, and could be found in every picture, small, unnoticeable, but still present. A figure to run from and run to.

Six stained glass windows admitted the euphoric sunshine, colorizing it with caricatures of the heavens and the stars within. Caricatures that were works of exquisite beauty, glittering so brightly that one who stared at them long enough would be memorized into total ignorance by the sight.

They shattered magnificently.

Koopa Troopers repelled down military ropes, their black armor contrasting heavily with the cheery walls. The thunder of soldiers' boots frightened the murals into dark corners. The shattered glass beaten into fine dust, their shadows raced down richly carpeted stairs, inflicting several years of damage in a few seconds.

They aligned together in the Main Hall, several rows of armored Koopas all standing at attention. The doors were thrown open, and General Guy strode in. Behind him, the mute red and blue attendants walked in silence.

"Commander!" the General barked, "What is the castle's status?"

A Koopa wearing a spiked helmet strode forward, the sides of his face obscured by a centurion's mask and a belt of hammers tied across his chest. "All rooms secure, Sir!"

"Eeeexcellent. Have the king alerted at once."

The doors to the hall were thrown open, and the Koopa King strode in, his massive feet thumping ominously on the tiles. "She changed the décor."

"Sir! The! Castle! Is! Secure! Sir!"

"General, really, there is no need to continually address me that way."

"Sir! Yes! Sir!"

"No, seriously."

"Sir! Of! Course! Sir!"

"Stop it."

"Sir!"

Bowser sighed, striding past the formal general and the rows of motionless Koopas.  
"Who is the commander for these soldiers?"

The Centurion Koopa stepped forward, saluting, "I am sir. Captain Vanguard of Charlie Squad."

"Anything unusual to report?"

"No sir! All those who may've provided resistance have been neutralized. I'm having my men move them to the prison transports".

Bowser nodded in approval. "Has the area around the Princess's chambers been blocked off?"

"Of course, Sir."

"General."

"Yes Si-"

"Have these troops moved to the defensive perimeter; Mario is doubtlessly on his way."

"Yes Si-!"

"And have the Doctor begin assembling his equipment."

"Yes S-"

"And follow me."

"Yes!" Recovering, the General pulled out a Megaphone and began to yell into it with surprising bombast.

"Squad, Attent-hut! Report to Bowser Junior immediately. He is in charge of the defensive perimeter and will give you your next orders. Dis-missed!" The squad saluted, turned, and marched out the doorway, their armored boots beating a uniform rhythm on the floor.

Bowser began walking toward the flight of stairs leading to the second floor, before stopping. "This stairway is new."

General Guy hurried up beside him, stopping at a position of attention and crying. "Yes Si-" a sharp blow from the blue shy guy cut him off. "It is sir?"

Bowser nodded, his brow furrowing. "She knows I hate stairs."

* * *

The outside of the castle had undergone an immense transformation. Barricades, flame dispensers, cannons, spikes, and assorted troops had taken up defensive positions throughout the courtyard.

Bowser Junior was planted firmly, red bandana wrapped defensively across his throat, and his eyes taking in the armaments with malicious cunning.

A trio of Koopas marched up to him. "All entrances secure Colonel! We've had Thwomps positioned at all the entrances, and heavy spike fields spread over the areas in-between."

Junior said nothing at first, considering the troop's words in relation to the current plans. "What about the town across the river?"

"All the villagers have been placed in prison transports; we're just awaiting orders to move out." The march of uniform boots became audible, and Capitan Vanguard came into view, squad marching behind him.

"Thank you for the information. Return to your squad," said Junior.

"Colonel Junior! Captain Vanguard reporting." The officer snapped a crisp salute and resumed speaking. "We were ordered by General Guy to report to you. The castle is secure, and Bowser is within."

Junior nodded and looked back to the defenses, his eyes wandering to the inactive airships.

"Have your men take control of the prison transports and move them out of range, we don't want them near here when the battle begins."

Captain Vanguard seemed to hesitate, his eyes sliding downward in a thoughtful expression. "Sir, if it's all the same, we were hoping to be a part of the battle. There's not one of us that doesn't want a piece of Mario."

"That sentiment is brave, Captain. But you've been ordered to escort the prisoners."

Frowning, Vanguard nodded and has his troop march to the massive airship, Junior watching him go.

"Besides, Mario is mine."

* * *

Interior decorator had not spared the stairs. They were pink. Sharp pink. Four year old playhouse pink. The banister was liquorish red, and beside the steps, a mural spiraled upward. It appeared to show a dragon in various stages of adorable defeat.

Here was the dragon, knocked from the top of a flying castle.

Here was the dragon, tossed into a pit of burning fire.

Here was the dragon, crushed beneath the boots of the red figure

Here was the dragon, cut, burned, boiled, drowned, shredded, banished, and plagued.

Here was the dragon, kidnapping the princess, yet again.

General Guy looked up at the mural as they passed it, tracing its progress with his eyes.

"Sir….are those supposed to be you?"

The silence spoke volumes.

They continued walking, Bowser's footsteps setting a perfect accompany to the scenes beside him, his footsteps matching the image.

The figure in red chased the Dragon and kidnapped princess, each race ending with the dragon being harmed in some way. Images became more ambiguous as the steps grew higher, the figures broken down to splashes of color, and their positions mixed around.

Now the red chased the brown and the pink, now the red chased the pink and the brown, now the pink chased the red chasing the brown, now the pink chased the brown chasing the red, now the brown -

Bowser pushed open the doors to the princess' chamber.

Here, in the center of the entire castle, cute was no longer an accurate term.

Face Breakingly Adorable might come close.

The center of the room was a large bed, the kind every fairytale princess dreams of. It was big, fluffy, and held four curtains that could be pulled back to hid the inside. Pillows large enough to smother a Saint Bernard adorned the head, and blankets the color of sunshine covered the surface.

Princess Peach was napping in her toy throne. Totally oblivious to the state of her entrance hall.

Her perfect eyes were framed by thick lashes that curled like dark springs across her face. Golden hair, the shade of angels' light, cascaded down her shoulders like a waterfalls of pure gold, illuminating her perfect face in a frame of perfect perfection. A crown of glittering jewels adorned her head, and her dress was a perfect shade of pink.

Perfect in every way.

Bowser snapped his hands together with the force of a tiger's jaws.

Princess Peach shot upright, her eyes bolting open so suddenly that her crown was slightly jarred by the motion. She lifted two immaculate hands up to her head, garbed in creamy white gloves that stretched to her elbows, and straightening the crown with a pair of twitching movements.

Once that was done, she stood up, shook herself, and hit Bowser between the eyes with her cutest smile. "Hello Bowser." Angels burst into tears as of the vocal personification of perfection echoed elatedly around the room.

Bowser crossed his arms and jerked his head toward the door. The Princess, all smiles, curtsied and began walking with the petite steps of a ballerina.

As the Koopa King watched her go, his eyes wandered back to the pillows that adorned her bed. Staring at them for a moment, his mouth widened into a smile.

"General Guy, see that the Princess is cared for, I've got something I'd like to do."

The small Shy Guy saluted, and Bowser closed the doors behind them.

"I don't like stairs."

* * *

The transports were relatively low key, nothing but a deep container that prisoners were tossed into. The Mushrooms huddled together in fear, their eyes looking up at the sides with expression of a sheep that's just seen its first wolf.

Atop the transport, a pair of Koopas watched the city far below. It looked peaceful, the city laying out in a comfortably geometric pattern. Producing a pair of cards, they began to casually flip through them.

"So, you think Bowser's gonna win this time?"

"Oh yes, most emphatically. Just like the past five hundred times. Really, he needs to get off this suspicion that the Princess is something more than, well, Peach."

"Yeah. Say, did you hear his rant last night?"

"No, had guard duty with Stern, what'd I miss?"

"Kameck told him that attacking Peach's castle was futile."

"No!"

"Yep. Bowser snapped man. He started this long list of things that he had noticed wrong with the Mushroom Kingdom."

"Like?"

"Uh…well, like the clouds."

They both paused to admire the smiling face on a cloud as it passed.

"Huh. Really? That's all?"

"Well, no, he mentioned coins."

They both looked at the golden coins that revolved slowly beside them,

"And the weather."

Eternal sunshine fell on the ship.

"Man, he's really going off on tangents. I don't see anything wrong with that stuff."

"Me neither."

They sat in silence for a while.

"Hey man."

"Yeah?"

"Do you hear that faint ringing?"

They had both begun to notice it, a frayed whine that seemed to hang at the edge of hearing.

"Yeah man…really wie-"

A scream like death tore the air, the entire ship was shaken and the vision of the ground was tossed like a blender in a typhoon. The sky seemed to flicker between a light blue, and a deep red, while everything in a fifty mile radius of the Town slammed its hands over its ears and closed its eyes in agony.

The Toads within the ship began to scream, "The Princess is in trouble, the Princess is in trouble!" They began to beat upon the insides of the prison, taking up the cry with rising intensity, "The Princess is in trouble! The Princess is in trouble!"

Within the control booth, Captain Vanguard stumbled into a medical kit. Busting it open with one hand, he pulled out a roll of gauze and wrapped it against his ears, biting his lips as the audible pain seeped in. Stumbling to the doorway, over the writhing bodies of his soldiers, he knocked open the door and looked at the pin.

The Toads they'd put in, were meek, docile, easily frightened and confined. The Toads climbing out, over the sheer walls of the transport, had massive white eyes and terrifying unison of movement.

Vanguard slammed the door, dashed to the control wheel, and began to desperately move it in an attempt to get the ship working. His officers stumbled up, and he began issuing orders to seal the door.

The banshee wail dimmed, finally fading, but the loud thumps coming from outside were clear indicators that the Toads had decided to mobilize.

Grabbing a radio, Vanguard started to issue a call for help, before the lines sprang to life.

"This is transport Terri, Our prisoners have started climbing the walls, we need additional troops to-"

"This is transport Wilki, We've lost engines and can't hold course. The Toads have sabotaged the engines, we're-"

"This is transport Diabetus, My men have all been eliminated, the Toads have neutralized all my men, their' attempting to b-" Static cut off his message.

All of the ships carrying Toads were calling for help, all of the other ships were desperately trying to mobilize aid, and all of the ships were discovering that they were too few to provide help.

A huge ship fell through Vanguard's field of vision, trailing smoke and ash as the wings desperately attempted to regain flight. Clouds hid it from view, but a brief flair indicated it had hit the ground.

"Kill the engines."

"WHAT!" was the collective cry.

"Kill the engines! If the Toads want to get down, then let them get down."

The ship's wings stopped in mid flap, the immediate affect being that the ship started to nose downward. A loud groan echoed across the sky as it began to accelerate.

Inertia lifted Vanguard off his feet, but his hands remained firmly gripped to the wheel. The officers were plastered against the far wall, a look of fear scribbled across their faces.

The altitude meter spun beside the wheel.

Three kilometers.

The Toad's had gripped together, forming a massive tail that followed the ship.

Two and three quarter kilometers.

Two and a quarter kilometers.

"Engage the engines!"

One kilometer.

An officer struggled with the phone.

Two thirds.

"Reengage the engines!"

Three eighths.

The ship was pounding.

Two sixteenths.

The wings began to beat desperately, vainly attempting to fight the air roaring past them.

One.

The ship slammed into the ground, its central frame splintering and exploding from the force of the impact. Not content, it spun into the air, flipping, before crashing down on the ground in finality, its wings tearing off and ripping apart in wild contortions.

Miraculously, the Toads survived, floated to the ground in a bizarre display as the sacks on their heads inflated with air and kept them afloat.

They landed, and disappeared into the city.

Smoke rose from the town, the bodies of several airships littering it with grim recordings of what had just occurred. Fires slithered through dark cracks, and ash hung like snow.

Over a green hill with eyes, a figure appeared. His shoes were brown, his overalls were blue, and his cap was red.

A black moustache fluttered in the wind.

Behind him, a collective of Toadstools was gathered. Their eyes were white, and they possessed determined expressions that had never been seen before.

Mustachioed figure raised a single fist, and the crowd charged, streaming over the hill in startling numbers. The plumber quickly followed, his feet carrying him over them and into the lead.

The Princess was in danger.


End file.
